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Friday, 4 May 2018

Summer Games

From Uniform Girls 44
It all started with a game of tennis. Had Millicent’s small brother been a little bit more sensible he would not have made the mistake he did; and Millicent would never have found happiness and fulfilment.
It was a glorious summer’s day. The sun was high in the heavens, the air was filled with the scent of honeysuckle and contrary to how a bard would have put it all was wrong with the world: at least with Millicent Banfield’s world!
She was playing tennis against her fiancé, Julian Summers, on the Buckstone Park courts. He was winning, but then she would never have dreamt of letting him do anything else. He was that sort!
Julian delivered a fast shot to Millicent’s right, which she missed.
‘Thirty-love,’ sang out Tommy, her small brother who had come along in the dual capacity of scorer and ball boy.
He retrieved the ball while Julian served a fast shot with a reserve ball, over to the left. She missed it.
‘Forty-love.’
Having done his scorer’s duty Tommy then proceeded to return the first ball into play. Had he been a nice sensible boy he would have thrown it to the server Julian, who would have neatly caught it. He might have been nice but sensible he was not. He threw the first ball as hard as he could at Millicent just as she was bending to pick up the second ball herself. Tommy’s ball caught her on her left buttock. She was wearing a very short white skirt and thin frilly matching knickers. Her skirt just was not covering her rump as she bent over, so the ball really hurt.
‘Ouch!’
Her face at first wore an angry frown but it gave way to a blissful smile. However, her game got even worse; and her behaviour was most peculiar. Every now and then she would rub her injured buttock with a little rueful smile. Julian won that set and the concluding one with ease. After the match Millicent declined his offer of refreshment with the excuse that she had things to do at home. Not a very plausible excuse because Millicent was a rich man’s daughter and never did anything, even if she did it rather well. Tommy came running after her.
‘Sorry, sis, about that ball.’
She smiled sweetly.
‘That’s all right, Tommy. I’m most grateful.’
‘Golly,’ thought Tommy, ‘she must be really sore. It’s not like her to be sarcastic.’
She bent and kissed his cheek, baffling him completely.
‘Gosh! She’s really flipped her lid.’
He made himself scarce. Millicent hurried home. She went up to her bedroom and rifled among the contents of her desk. Not finding what she was looking for she went into Tommy’s room, who also had a little desk of his own. There she found what she sought: a ruler.
She hastened back to her room and hastily removed her knickers. For a moment she felt her left rump until she had located the sore place. She then struck it as hard as she could with the ruler. Then again, and again. The third time she struck lucky. She squealed with delight as she felt again the delicious sensual thrill that she had first felt on the court when the ball had struck her. Again she struck her behind and again. Whatever pain she felt was of no consequence, but a small price to pay for such an erotic experience.
Suddenly she had a feeling of being watched. She looked out of the window and saw to her horror that Geoffrey Ladd, the jobbing gardener, was up a tree looking in at her. He had been contracted to lop some dangerous branches and she had forgotten about this. He was grinning all over his face.
She quickly dropped her skirt and ran from the room. When she ventured back he was gone. Putting back on her knickers she rushed down stairs. Geoffrey was washing his hands in the kitchen.
‘Geoffrey — Mr Ladd, I would like to talk to you.’
‘Yes, but call me Geoffrey if you wish.’
‘Not here, in case mother overhears. Can I walk with you a little way?’
 ‘If you wish.’
 As soon as they had left the house she asked him:
‘Did you see what I was doing?’
‘Yes, you were whacking your bum.’
‘I will not deny it. Don’t you want to ask why?’
‘You’re some kind of masochist, I guess.’
‘A masochist of barely an hour’s standing. I have just discovered an erogenous zone.’
‘Why not see your doctor about it?’
Millicent laughed.
‘No, it’s not a physical complaint. Only every time it is struck it gives me a thrill.’
‘What do you want me to do about it?’
‘Nothing. You won’t tell anyone about what you saw?’
‘Of course not, however, I can’t see that you can get much satisfaction about doing that to yourself.’
‘Of course not, but what else can I do?’
‘Get a man to do it, a strong man!’
‘Who? Not Julian!’
Geoffrey laughed.
‘What would he think of you?’
‘Yes,’ sighed Millicent, ‘he wouldn’t understand.’
‘I’ll do it for you,’ volunteered Geoffrey, gallantly.
‘Would you?’ asked Millicent, breathlessly.
‘Sure.’
‘What’s the price?’
‘I don’t want your money, that’s for sure. I just want you.’
‘Me!?’
‘Yes, chuck this Julian. He’s no good to you. I do all right. A jobbing gardener does all right these days. Marry me and you won’t go far wrong. And I can whack your bum as hard as you like.’
‘No! I can’t marry you. You know that I’m engaged to Julian. My parents would not wear you at all!’
‘All right, Miss Banfield. Don’t come crawling to me for any favours.’
‘I won’t. Goodbye!’
With that she walked off in a huff. However, that night was rather a sleepless one for her. Every now and then she felt the need to jump out of bed and whack her rump with the ruler. Morning found her tired and frustrated. Furthermore, Tommy was late for school because he could not find his ruler.
‘I’ll find it’, she said breathlessly. ‘Just get your cap and coat on while I look.’
She rushed upstairs, retrieved the ruler and returned it to her brother with mock triumph.
‘There,’ she lied, ‘I found it on the floor.’
Mrs Banfield gave the luckless Tommy a cuff round the ear.
‘That’s for being careless.’
Poor Millicent was miserable. Sister-like she did not care about the injustice to Tommy; but she did miss the ruler; that instrument of pleasure. She never knew how she got through the day but she had managed to discover Geoffrey Ladd’s address from her mother’s address book, which she always left lying about. Evening found her ringing at his front door. To her relief he answered it, for she feared that he might be out.
‘Hello, Miss Banfield. Can I do anything for you?’
‘It’s no good, Mr Ladd. I just can’t go on like this. Can I come in?’
‘All right.’
His flat took her by surprise. It really was super luxury. She had an image of a jobbing gardener as a kind of glorified labourer. However, just the first sight of his flat showed her how wrong she was.
He helped her off with her hat and coat.
‘Yes, I thought that you’d come round. Well, I’m ready to service you. I even bought the cane, I was so sure of you.’
‘Of all the conceited —’
‘It’s no good, Miss Banfield. You would not be here unless your need was strong. My terms are the same, agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ said Millicent, sulkily.
‘All right, now let’s have you unwrapped. I mean starkers!’
‘But surely I need only take my knickers off and raise my skirt.’
‘If you don’t want to co-operate just get out.’
Resentfully Millicent began to undress. He added insult to injury by leaving the room. However, he soon returned with a long swishy cane. She was just removing her brassiere when he came back in.
‘Glad you’ve got proper hangers. A woman just is not a woman without them.’
‘Don’t be personal,’ snapped Millicent.
‘Listen I’m boss now. I’ll be what I like, now quick with your unwrapping.’
Millicent resented his attitude. She felt bullied and blackmailed. Yet she feared to kick against his will in case he should back down and not punish her bottom. At last she was naked. She bent over the arm of the sofa, projecting her behind into a perfect target. She indicated the sensitive spot with her hand.
‘There! That’s my erogenous zone.’
‘Right, here goes.’
Swish! He was right on the area. However, she felt that the pain far out-balanced any pleasure she got, even though that was considerable.
‘I’d rather be hand-spanked,’ she moaned.
‘All right please yourself.’
He sat on the sofa and she lay across his lap. Without any warming up he laid into her posterior. Wham! Wham! Wham! She squealed in ecstasy.
‘That’s it! Punish my naughty bum. This is bliss. Harder, harder, harder. Go on forever.’
He was enjoying himself, too. It seemed that neither wanted to end the spanking, but he became aware that his hand was getting sore.
‘All right, let’s rest awhile. We can have some drinks and chat.’
‘Why? I’m enjoying this! Don’t you ever think of anyone but yourself?’
‘My hand happens to be sore.’
‘You shouldn’t notice such things. I suppose my bum is sore, but it is only a secondary consideration. The pleasure feeling is paramount.’
‘We will resume later, if it makes you happy.’
She said that it would and slipped from his lap and deposited herself in an armchair. He rose and went over to the drinks cabinet.
‘Medium sherry for me,’ Millicent said.
He brought her drink over to her. He was suddenly brisk and business-like.
‘When will you give Julian his marching orders.’
‘As soon as possible. The sooner the better, in fact I am rather looking forward to it.’
‘How about your father? How would he take it?’
‘Not bad, really. He’s never liked Julian; and I think that he likes you.’
‘And your mother?’
‘Not well, I fear. However, she likes carnations.’
‘She will have a conservatory full,’ laughed Geoffrey.
‘She gulped down her drink.
‘Right, and now for some action.’
----//----
The front door bell rang. Millicent knew that it was Julian because she had seen him arrive from the drawing room window.
‘This is it!’ she murmured.
She picked up her tennis racket from the hall stand and answered the door.
‘Hello. Millicent,’ said Julian, ‘ready for tennis?’
‘No, I’m not going.’
‘But you have your racket.’
‘For another purpose other than playing with.’
‘I say, that’s being rather mysterious.’
‘Mysterious is what I’ve no intention of being. In fact I intend to be plain with you.’
‘Plain with me?’
‘Yes, I have come to the conclusion that we are incompatible.’
‘Incompatible!’
‘Yes, you lack income and l am rather more than pat-able.’
‘I don’t get you.’
‘That’s right!’
‘Are you jilting me?’
‘If you wish to put it like that. I’d rather just say ‘piss off’.’
‘Really!’
He was pop-eyed with shock. However, she had one final indignity for him.
‘And that’s for tennis!’
She brought her racket down on his head. The strings broke and the frame was round his neck. She slammed the door on him.
So much for Julian, the next thing was to tackle her father. She had to wait until evening, when after the meal she was alone with him. Her mother was helping the hired help to wash up.
‘Dad, put the paper away, I have something to say.’
Mr Banfield smiled at his daughter’s accidental rhyme.
‘You’re a poet, And do not know it.’
‘Seriously, dad. I’ve broken it off with Julian.’
‘Why? It’s not Father’s Day’
‘Oh, daddy, you’re glad!’
‘You can’t blame me. I did not fancy him in the family. Anyway, is there anyone else?’
‘Yes, Geoffrey Ladd.’
‘Well, I’m not all that enthusiastic. Even so, he’s an improvement on Julian.’
They agreed to tackle Mrs Banfield together. That lady was not happy at all. However, her husband helped to reassure her.
‘Even if he does inherit a fortune he’s such an idiot that he would not keep the money. It will go but he wouldn’t.’
‘But he might have a title one day,’ wailed Mrs Banfield.
‘Yes, but only if a sufficient number of the right sort are kind enough to pop off. Anyway, young Ladd is an up-and-coming young chap. He might have one, only if it does come his way he would owe it to merit and not to the accident of birth.’
Mrs Banfield was only part convinced.
‘But what do you see in him?’ she wailed.
‘Well, he’s not Julian’, explained Millicent.
She could hardly have told her mother that she liked Geoffrey because he knew how to bash her bottom about; and certainly the reason she gave was also true, even if it would also had applied to every other single male.
The doorbell rang. It was Geoffrey with an enormous bunch of carnations. Millicent answered the door to him.
‘Golly, you timed that well,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve just told them. Dad’s favourable but mum’s wavering.’
‘Well, we’ll see what flower power will do.’
‘All right, but take me back to your flat afterwards. My bum’s itching again.’
----//----
Geoffrey and Millicent burst into their little chalet. They were honeymooning on Sark. They had spent the morning at La Grande Grève. They had a long climb up and a brisk walk to their hired chalet, which was near La Seigneurie. They both wore bathing wraps. Underneath he had bathing trunks and she the briefest of bikinis.
As soon as they were in the chalet they discarded their wraps. Millicent’s lower half of her bikini was so brief that the cleft between her buttocks was showing.
‘Just as well that the beach was deserted,’ grinned Geoffrey, ‘otherwise some folk might have had an eyeful.’
‘Geoffrey, I don’t care who sees what. Let ‘em all come and gawk.’
‘You’ll get us both thrown off the island if you’re not careful.’
‘The local fellows might object to that,’ she grinned. ‘I reckon that I’m very popular here.’
‘Yes, it’s not what the fellows see in you but what you let them see you in that counts.’
‘Pity they can’t see me in nothing. It would make me more popular than ever,’ she grinned.
I can see you in nothing,’ Geoffrey smiled.
‘Yes, and there’s no time like the present. Let’s have a session before lunch.’
She had just ripped the top half off when a hearty voice hailed them from without and there was an accompanying rap on the door.
‘Hello, anyone at home?’
‘Bother,’ muttered Geoffrey, ‘It’s Philip Baker.’
‘Let him in,’ cried Millicent, ‘the more the merrier.’
‘But you’ve taken your top off!’
‘Soon rectify that,’ she grinned, as she removed the lower half of her bikini as well.
Geoffrey had to answer the door. He hoped that Millicent’s devilment would not go further. Little did he know her.
‘What is it Philip?’
‘I wonder if you’d be wanting to take a trip round the island?’
‘Well, we —’
‘Come in, Phil,’ yelled Millicent.
‘But —’
Millicent appeared behind Geoffrey’s back. He tried to hide her nakedness with his own body, but it was no good. Philip seemed surprisingly undisturbed.
‘We were about to have some fun and games. No pokey-pokey, but plenty of spanky-spanky. Care to join us?’
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ grinned the youth.
‘And mind you keep quiet about it’, muttered Geoffrey.
‘Have no fear. I don’t want to share this.’

1 comment:

  1. i remember a story called uncle Arthur but cant find it now

    ReplyDelete